The Pool of Possibility
by kjewls
Summary: What if Jess' and Nick's encounter with Remy the Landlord, in "The Landlord" ended slightly differently, but Jess can't remember any of it?
1. Chapter 1

Somewhere between sleeping and waking, Jess snuggled deeper into the comforter draped across her skin, a smile sliding across the contours of her face. It wasn't until she allowed her eyes to blink open that she saw it . . . the telltale arm encircling her body . . . her _naked_ body. His masculine fingers were lying perilously close to her _happy_ place. But _who_ owned those fingers, and how exactly did they get there?

It was at that moment that Jess realized how incredibly hung over she actually felt. Her stomach felt as though a stampede of wild boars had crashed right through it. Her throat burned. Her mouth was painfully dry. And her head was screaming in abject protest.

Jess closed her eyes again, hoping irrationally that she could make the situation disappear, simply by not seeing it. But when she opened her eyes, there it was . . . the same as before. Jess had seen all those romantic comedies, where a woman wakes up, after a night of drinking, and is able to gracefully slide out of bed, without waking her still-sleeping partner. But she was realistic enough to know those moments were fake, fake, fake. So, instead of attempting to move the arm that had since traveled, and was now clutching her boob, she slid under the comforter entirely, hoping to exit the bed from its foot.

Of course, what she didn't count on was that her doing this would draw her body _closer_ to that of her sleeping companion, as opposed to farther away . . . or that he was also be naked . . . and, apparently, very, very _happy. _"Please don't be Remy. Please don't be Remy. Please don't be Remy," Jess mumbled out loud from under the comforter.

"Jess, is that you?"

Jess was so startled by the voice that she sat bolt upright, causing the entire comforter to tent upward . . . kind of like the ghost costume she wore on Halloween in second-grade that caused her to bump into everything, because she cut the eye holes too small.

"No . . . it's not Jess. I'm the Ghost of Christmas Past . . . from your dream . . . oooooh ," Jess said in a deep throaty voice she hoped was sufficiently ghostly.

Seconds later, the comforter was ripped her head (so much for being ghostly), and she found herself face to face with a frustratingly smug-faced, and completely nude, Nick.

"The Ghost of Christmas Past? Really Jess? You couldn't come up with someone better than that? You do know Christmas was months ago, right?"

Jess covered her eyes with her hand. "Oh, hi Nick! Fancy meeting you here!" She said, attempting to appear casual . . . or as casual as one could be, while sitting on a bed naked with her hand covering her face.

"There's really no need to be shy, Jess. I mean, I would think that, after last night, you and I should feel completely comfortable with each other, in _every _way."

_What the hell happened last night? _Jess thought. "Oh yeah, TOTALLY COMFORTABLE," She said way too loudly . . . then she sang it. "TOTALLY COMFORTABLEEEEEE! In fact, I haven't felt this comfortable with anyone, since . . . well . . . ever . . . _never ever_."

Nick shook his head, and furrowed his brow. "You have no clue what happened last night, do you?"

"What? Of course, I remember! Yeah! I mean, how could I forget last night, when . . . all that . . . stuff _happened_," Jess fumbled, as she carefully slipped out of the bed, and moved backwards toward the door, all the while, searching the room desperately for her clothing. "I just wanted to make sure that YOU remembered."

"Oh, I remember," said Nick, trying to hide a smirk. "I remember _hard."_

Jess nodded slowly, trying casually to cover all her lady parts with just two hands, as she leaned against the closed bedroom door. "Really? Because I don't think you do . . . which is why you should TELL ME what happened . . . just so _I know_ . . . that you really know. You know?"

Nick cocked his head, giving Jess his best penetrating stare, as he rose from the bed. "OK, I'll tell you what happened."

"Good," said Jess, her eyes widening as Nick began moving perilously close to her, until their faces were inches apart.

Nick then moved his hand toward Jess' face, and she felt her cheeks redden involuntarily, at the anticipated bodily contact. She held her breath . . . waiting.

"We dipped our toe in the pool of possibility," he whispered in her ear, as he reached behind her to grab the grey robe hanging on the door.

"We did? I mean, we _did,_" Jess managed, her voice sounding oddly husky and foreign to her.

"Oh_, we did_," replied Nick, as he handed her the robe, his fingers brushing against hers, as the thick mound of fabric changed hands.

Jess quickly draped the robe over herself, briefly disarmed by its subtly musky smell . . . its _Nick_ smell. Then, she skittered out the door, without another word.

"Bye Jess," Nick called after her, after the door closed behind her.

Jess stomped to the bathroom with a determined look on her face. She had some serious detective work to do. And Veronica Mars had nothing on her!

Then, she slipped on the newly washed bathroom floor, and fell on her ass . . .


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you OK? Because, you're sitting kind of funny."

Jess and Cece were sitting outside Pinkberry, with matching cups of frozen yogurt . . . (well, matching in the sense that they were both eating the same _flavor_ . . . strawberry. But Jess had so many toppings on hers that they were literally spilling out onto the table in front of her . . . particularly those pesky, escape artist Gummi Bears).

"I had an accident in the bathroom, this morning," mumbled Jess. "I think Schmidt may have tried to hot wax our floors again, last night."

"Speaking of last night . . . what the heck happened to you?" Cece inquired insistently. "You sounded really weird on the phone this morning . . . weirder than usual, I mean."

Jess put an abnormally large spoonful of yogurt in her mouth, so that she wouldn't have to answer.

"_Jess_," Cece said sternly, waiting impatiently, while her best friend swallowed her mouthful of mush.

"I think . . . I may have had a threesome, last night," Jess said under her breath.

"You WHAT?" Cece practically screamed, causing nearly everyone within a mile radius to turn and stare.

"Cece!" Jess whined. "It's really important that you don't judge me right now."

"Judge you? Screw that, I'm _impressed_. And I also want details. So, spill!"

"Well, it all started when Nick and I were having this fight about whether . . ."

"Wait a second . . . you had a threesome with _Nick?_ Oh, this story just keeps getting better and better," interrupted Cece, leaning forward in her chair . . . her strawberry yogurt, now entirely forgotten.

Jess sighed in frustration, biting her lower lip. "So, as I was _saying . . . _we were having this fight. And I wanted to prove to him that people are generally good and _kind_."

"But they're _not_," Cece interrupted again.

Jess glared at her, and folded her arms across her chest.

"OK . . . OK, I'll shut up," Cece said sheepishly, raising her palms in a placating gesture.

"Then, I got our landlord, Remy to come fix all the things that were broken in our apartment. And Nick said he was just fixing all those things, because he wanted to sleep with me. But I said that wasn't true."

"Oh, he _totally_ wanted to sleep with you!"

"CECEEEEE!"

"OK . . . sorry . . . _man_, you're grouchy today!" Cece exclaimed.

"The next thing I know, Remy and Nick and I are drinking this really, really strong liquor. And then Remy comes out in his underwear. And the next thing I know, we're in the bedroom, listening to Rusted Root. And Remy is telling Nick and me to kiss, and . . ."

"_And_ . . ." prodded Cece.

"_And_, the next thing I know, I'm waking up naked next to Nick, with NO IDEA how I got there."

Cece grinned, and slapped her palm down on the table, sending many of the sprinkles on Jess' frozen yogurt skittering across the floor. "See? I_ knew_ there was something between you and Nick. I totally called it!"

Jess sighed, shaking her head. "Cece, you don't understand. Nick and Julia are in a really good place now. He _really_ seems to like her. And she's actually starting to . . . well . . . not totally hate _me_. I really don't think he would do this. I don't think _I _would do this."

"Well, maybe the _really, really_ strong liquor you two were drinking, lowered your inhibitions and brought out your true feelings for one another," Cece suggested, reaching forward with her napkin, to wipe a chocolate chip off of Jess' cheek.

Jess stared at the floor, suddenly looking as though she was about to cry. "I_ can't_ have true feelings for Nick. He's my roommate. And I have _other_ roommates. It would just make things too weird."

Cece furrowed her brow, "You mean weirder than waking up naked, after having a possible threesome with him, and some old creepy guy, that you can barely remember?"

"YES! I mean . . . NO! I mean, I don't know," exclaimed Jess, resting her head on the table.

Cece sighed, leaning backward. "Listen, why don't you just ask Nick what happened? This way, at least you'll know."

"I _can't_ ask Nick. I don't want him to know that I don't know," Jess lifted her head from the table, to reveal a face covered with sprinkles, chocolate chips, Gummi Bears, and a spoonful of chocolate fudge. Cece started laughing hysterically.

"What? Is there something on my face?" Jess asked nervously, as she rubbed furiously at her skin.

Cece shrugged, as she reached into her purse for a moist toilette. She'd learned long ago, that when you go out to eat with Jess, you always have to come prepared. "OK," Cece reasoned. "If you don't want to ask Nick, you're going to have to ask your landlord. It's the next best thing."

"REMY! That's genius, Cece! He would probably know, if he had sex with me, right?" Jess exclaimed, jumping from her seat. "All right, let's do it," she insisted, tugging on Cece's arm.

"Uh, do what?" Cece inquired, not liking at all where this was going.

"Talk to Remy, like you said," Jess explained.

"Jess . . . I don't think, I should . . ."

"Please, you have to come with me! I can't do this alone," Jess begged.

"Fine! But you owe me, BIG TIME, for this one," grumbled Cece, as she followed Jess in the direction of her apartment.

Jess and Cece were so deep in conversation, that they never noticed the two men sitting behind them, both of their faces cleverly obscured by matching newspapers. Simultaneously, the duo folded up the papers, and placed them neatly on the table in front of them. "This is going to be _so awesome_," said Winston, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Hell, yeah it is," replied Schmidt, as the two rose from their seats.

There was a lot of scheming to be done . . .


	3. Chapter 3

"Not to freak you out or anything . . . but this is the kind of place where they find all the dead bodies, at the end of every single episode of _20/20_."

"Cece . . . please don't talk about my maybe- sex partner that way," Jess said through her teeth, as the pair entered the basement, where she had met Remy for the first time.

Jess couldn't help but notice that there was now a new drawing on the wall next to the stick figure representation of Remy and his ex-wife. The drawing featured two stick figure men, and a stick figure girl, who had suspiciously Jess-like hair. (But not Jess-like boobs, because if the _real_ Jess had boobs like that, she wouldn't be able to stand up right, without toppling over.)

This was not good . . . not good _at all_.

"Oh hi Jess. It's good to see you up and about, after last night's shenanigans. Who's your delectable little friend?" Remy inquired, as he leeringly moving toward Cece.

Jess smiled awkwardly, and clasped her fingers together in front of her, almost as if she was praying. "Hey there, Remy, this is my friend . . ."

"Lesbian, I'm _a lesbian_," Cece blurted out nervously, instantly regretting the words, as soon they escaped her lips.

Remy grinned. "That's great. I _love_ lesbians. Lesbians are great for threesomes!"

_Crap! _"I also recently got out of prison," added Cece, thinking fast.

"No, you did nahh . . ." Jess argued.

Cece elbowed Jess in the stomach so hard, that she let out a squeak.

Remy raised his eyebrows, clearly unfazed. "You too? What a small world! What did those bastards get _you_ for?"

"For cutting off the weiner of some guy who tried to get me to do a threesome," Cece said, without emotion.

"Oh," said Remy, taking a step back, his hands instinctively moving to cover his happy place . . . which was suddenly feeling not-so-happy.

"Listen Remy, this is probably going to sound a little weird. But I was wondering if you wouldn't mind telling me what happened last night. Specifically, I was wondering whether we . . . whether you, Nick, and I . . ." Jess found herself uncomfortable saying the words, so instead she tried to "act out" what she was saying, by moving her fist backward, and forward, in a thrusting motion, while swinging her hips in a dance that somewhat resembled the drunken hula.

" . . . dipped our toe in the Pool of Possibility?" Remy offered, with a wink.

Jess stopped hand gesturing and dancing, relieved to be understood. "I don't know why everyone is saying that to me, today, but, yes."

"So, what you are telling me is that you have no memory of what happened last night, at all?" Remy wondered, with amusement.

"Not even the teeny tiniest bit," clarified Jess.

"Well, OK. Then, I'll fill you in . . ."

And with that, Remy launched into the peculiar details of Jess' lost evening . . .

_ "Let's do this," Nick exclaimed, as he grabbed Jess' face, and brought it mere centimeters away from his own._

_ Jess' mind was racing. She can do this! She thought. Of course, she can do this. It's just Nick. And it's just one kiss . . . one itty bitty kiss . . . and some threesome sex . . . with her roommate . . . and her landlord . . . who's kind of scary . . ._

"_Ahh, I can't do this!" Jess yelled, pulling backward abruptly._

_ "Let's just be calm, and regroup," offered Remy, who was already seeing his hot threesome sex night, slipping slowly through his fingers._

_ If she didn't know any better, Jess would say that Nick looked a little disappointed . . . more than a little, to be honest. But, Nick, being Nick, recovered quickly. After all, this wasn't about kissing. It was about winning . . . and about being right. And Nick didn't like to admit he was wrong any more than Jess did._

"_Just admit that you were WRONG, Jess . . ."_

_ (Outside the door, Winston is about to enter the room, but is distracted by the sight of a bloody-faced Schmidt returning home from work. "What the hell happened to you, buddy? Did you join a fight club without telling me? Oh man! You always promised me if you ever joined a fight club, you would let me go with you!")_

_ "I was wr. . ." NO! Jess couldn't admit she was wrong. If she did, Nick would never understand that people were truly good inside! And Remy was good, dammit! A little weird and twisted, maybe, but he was good. _

"_I NEED ANOTHER DRINK!" Jess exclaimed, dashing outside to get more of that bathtub brewed swill Remy called liquor._

_ Seconds later, Jess was holding the entire bottle toward her lips, and ready to drink it down . . . and all to prove a point. Nick looked frightened. But Jess assumed this was only because he didn't want to lose their little argument. _

"_Jess, I wouldn't drink all that if I were you. You don't know what he put in it. Don't do this, Jess. Don't . . . don't," Nick pleaded, his eyes wide, like saucers._

_ Jess tipped her head back, and drank . . . and drank . . . and drank . . . so fast she could barely taste how awful it truly was, or feel the burn ,as it crawled down her throat, and burned the lining of her stomach. Nick palmed his face with his hand. "You did it. You totally did it," he said, shaking his head, with a mixture of amusement and exasperation._

_ "Let's dance some more, Nick! We're going to do the pre-threesome dance! Oh boy! There's going to be some hot menag-ing tonight!" Jess then ran onto the bed, and started jumping up and down on it, while she sang off-key to Rusted Root._

_ Nick began to get very worried. "Get down, Jess. Please, come down."_

_ Remy was continuing his own solo dance, happy that this party was still going on, and mostly oblivious to the world around him. Then, Jess hit her head on the ceiling, while she was jumping. "Getting dizzy, realllllllly dizzy . . ." Jess slurred, as she stumbled off the bed._

_ Nick somehow managed to catch her in his arms, just seconds before she fell to the floor. For a few extended moments, they just remained in that position, staring at one another, blinkingly. _

"_You're eyes are like diamonds . . . pretty black diamonds," Jess mused drunkenly, running her hand across his cheek. _

_ Nick was mesmerized. God, she was gorgeous! How had he not noticed before? But of course, he had noticed. He had always noticed. He just never let himself think about it . . . until now. Nick leaned forward again, wanting to kiss her even more now than he had before, back when they were just doing it for Remy's benefit._

_ But before he could do it, Jess regained her footing, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and started swaying to the music. Her head rested sleepily on his shoulder, as her eyes fell blissfully closed. Before Nick even realized what he was doing, he found himself draping his arms across Jess' waist. Her soft dark hair tickled his face, and began teasing his nose with its gently sweet strawberry smell. _

_It all felt so right . . . so perfect. Nick didn't remember the last time he felt so comfortable . . . so happy. Maybe Jess was right. Maybe people really could be good. Jess certainly was!_

_ Jess lifted her head toward Nick, and smiled. Then, she pulled him toward her, ever so slowly. This was happening . . . this was really going to happen . . ._

_ Annnnnnnd then she puked . . . a lot . . ._

_ Remy walked over to examine the situation. "Oh no! She better not have alcohol poisoning. That liquor she was drinking is illegal twenty countries. I can't go back to jail! I just can't! Sorry guys! Good luck," he exclaimed, as he dashed out of the apartment, leaving a now-soiled Nick to clean up the mess that was Jess._

Twenty minutes later Jess and Cece were in the elevator, heading back to Jess' apartment. "Well," Jess remarked. "Now, I know what happened to our clothes!"

"Yeah!" Cece said, trying to be positive and supportive, for her friend's sake. "And hey, you _definitely _didn't have sex with your landlord! So, there's that!"

"That's right . . . no Remy Sexxxxxx for Jesssss" sang Jess, with more enthusiasm than she felt. "But I'm still missing a few hours."

"You'll get them back," offered Cece, patting her friend on the back supportively.

As the pair emerged from the elevator, they ran into Julia. And she looked _pissed._

"OK, we have to act natural," Jess stage whispered under her breath to Cece. "So, Cece!" She said way too loudly, "I totally think Bella should have chosen Jacob, instead of Edward. It's like having a pet dog, and a boyfriend all in one! Plus, she could use his abs, as a xylophone! Oh . . . hi Julia, I didn't even see you there!"

"Oh no . . . not _you_. Clearly, this universe hates my guts," Julia mumbled, pushing past Jess and Cece, into the elevator.

_Wow, no wonder Nick likes her so much. Those two are exactly alike._ Jess thought to herself. "Hey, don't be sad." She offered perkily. "Turn that frown upside down! I'm sure Nick wouldn't want you to be all frowny and maaaad!" She added, contorting her face into an exaggerated frown.

"Oh really, Jess? Is that why he dumped me, a week before Valentine's Day, because he didn't want me to be all frowny and _mad_? Just . . . just do me a favor and _disappear_!" Julia seethed, her eyes filled with tears.

"Wait, Julia!" Jess cried, extending her hand toward the closing elevator door.

But Julia was already gone . . .

"Oh, you are SO _screwed_," Cece noted.


	4. Chapter 4

The minute Jess and Cece opened the door to Jess' apartment, Winston started humming.

"Why are you humming _that_?" Schmidt inquired, poking Winston in the ribs.

"Schmidt . . . It's _Here Comes the Bride. _I'm humming it because . . . well . . . _you know," _Winston explained, inclining his head pointedly in Jess' direction.

"Uh, I hate to break it to you, Winston, but that is _not_ _Here Comes to the Bride_. You were humming _Hail to the Chief."_

"_Hail to the Chief_? No way! It was _Here Comes the Bride_! Listen, I'll prove it to you, 'Here comes the Bride. She's the Bride, and she needs Groom-ing,'" Winston sang off key.

"That is not how the song goes!" Schmidt groaned, muttering under his breath, "Idiot."

"Turd Face," Winston replied, jutting out his lower lip in frustration.

Jess was amazed sometimes by how often her experience as an elementary school teacher came in handy, when navigating her male roommates' numerous, and often ridiculous, squabbles. "I could solve this," she said confidently, as she sat down between Schmidt and Winston at the kitchen table. "First, Winston, you have a very nice singing voice."

Cece crinkled up her nose at this suggestion, but Winston didn't seem to notice. He was too busy sticking his tongue out at Schmidt. "Why thank you, Jess," he said gallantly, giving her a slight bow, from his seat.

"But . . . Schmidt is right. That was not _Here Comes the Bride_,"

"HA!" Schmidt said, banging his hand on the table triumphantly.

"_Here Comes the Bride _is like this: 'Here comes the bride . . . all dressed in white . . . ah . . . I don't know the rest of the words, but here comes the bride," Jess sang, ending her performance with a cute curtsy.

"That song sucks," said Winston pouting.

"Winston, you're being rude to Mrs. Miller," Schmidt corrected.

"Wait . . . what did you just call her?" Cece inquired.

"Miss Miller! Jess didn't tell you she married Nick, last night? Jess, I know you didn't invite her to the wedding. But as, your best friend, she really had a right to know," Schmidt said sternly, a smirk pushing insistently at the corners of his mouth.

"You didn't invite me to your wedding?" Cece asked, with a frown.

"Of course, I would invite you to my wedding," Jess said, patting Cece on the shoulder. "Guys, I did not get married last night."

"Sure you did," Winston piped in. "Schmidt and I were your witnesses. And Schmidt was the one who drove us three hours to the Elvis chapel in Vegas, because you and Nick were too drunk to drive."

"Is that what happened to your face, Schmidt?" Cece inquired dryly, noting the ugly bruise on his lip. "You got into a fight with an Elvis Impersonator over a parking space?"

"No . . . I don't want to talk about that," Schmidt said petulantly, his hand rising self-consciously to cover his mouth.

"I'm sorry guys, but I don't believe you," Jess said, as she frantically eyed Nick's bedroom, the door to which had been mysteriously closed, since she arrived at the apartment.

(Also, he was blasting Adele's _Someone Like You_ really loud on his Bose sound system, which he only seemed to do, when he was really upset . . . which certainly didn't bode well for either of them.)

"Wait, Winston, do you still have that wedding photo?" Schmidt asked.

"Yeah, absolutely!" Winston exclaimed excitedly, as he dug the photo out from its convenient spot, in his back pocket and handed it to Jess.

Jess examined the picture with a furrowed brow, while she bit her lower lip in confusion. There it was. Jess . . . clad in a simple white wedding dress, huddled next to a rather inebriated-looking Nick. (Though she, herself, didn't look nearly as drunk as she thought she would be, given Remy's recap of earlier events.) Something about the picture was very familiar to Jess. But she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. She wondered if maybe that was a sign that her memory was starting to return . . .

"Oh my god," Jess said, stumbling back in her chair, and raising her hand to clutch her now-pounding head. "We really did it. Nick and I had a Ross and Rachel from _Friends_ drunken wedding!"

"I loved that episode of _Friends_!" Schmidt exclaimed excitedly. "You know, I have that season on DVD, if you ever want to watch together."

"Not helping, SCHMIDT!" Cece said sternly. "Jess, let me get you some water."

"I'm a married woman! My mom is going to be so mad that I didn't invite her to my wedding," Jess said in shock, as she gulped down the glass of water that Cece promptly put in front of her.

Something about this story still didn't add up to Cece. And she was beginning to smell a rat . . . a big, fat SCHMIDT-Y RAT. "Where's your ring, Jess? Or your marriage certificate?"

"Bam," shouted Schmidt excitedly, plopping a ring and a wedding certificate down on the table, as if he'd been holding on to them all along (which he clearly, had been).

Jess had never seen a real wedding certificate before, but this one_ seemed _official enough. The signature at the bottom certainly looked like hers. "Guys, what am I going to do?" She whined. "If I ask Nick for an annulment, I'll have been married for a shorter time than Britney Spears."

"And Kim Kardashian!" Schmidt added.

"You watch way too much E! News!" Cece said, shaking her head at Schmidt.

"This must have been why Julia and Nick broke up! He's a _married man_! How the heck am I supposed to tell my new husband, I can't even remember our wedding . . . _or our wedding night?"_

"You could always wait until your anniversary!" Schmidt chimed in, causing Cece to kick the back of his chair . . . _hard_.

"I'd say, tell him, very carefully. And try not to be near any sharp objects, when you do it," Winston offered helpfully.

"You're right, Winston," said Jess. "I have to tell him . . . OK . . . you can do this, Jess," she said . . . then she sang it, "You can do this, Jessss."

"Godspeed, Girlfriend," said Schmidt supportively, as Jess rose and walked slowly toward Nick's room.

She knocked briefly, before decisively closing the door behind her.

Once she was out of earshot, Cece turned her attention to Winston and Schmidt, who were both biting their lips to keep from laughing. "Uh guys . . . can I see that wedding picture?"

"Sure!" Schmidt said graciously, handing the picture to the model standing behind him.

Cece looked at the picture for about two seconds, before using both of her hands, to abruptly bang Schmidt's and Wilson's heads together.

"OUCH! What the hell?" They both shrieked in unison.

"This picture is TOTALLY PHOTOSHOPPED."

"No, it's NOT!" Schmidt argued.

"Yes, it is! I'm a model . . . I _know_ photoshop! And_ that's_ photoshop! What did you do, take the picture of Jess and Nick from that wedding you went to last month, and photoshop a dress onto her body?"

_How did she know that? _ Schmidt wondered to himself. _She must have used one of her Model Jedi Mind tricks on me . . ._

"I didn't do that! I wouldn't even know _how _to do that!" Schmidt insisted. "Winston, would I know how to do that?"

"Nope . . . he's a total computer retard," Winston agreed.

"See?" Schmidt said, inclining his head in Winston's direction. "I'm a total computer retard."

"Right, you clearly _don't_ know how to use Photoshop . . . which is why this was done on Microsoft Paint . . . which is why it looks SO FAKE! I bet you drew up that phony marriage contract on the computer too. And I don't even _want_ to know where you got that ugly ass ring, but it sure as hell wasn't from Jess' finger!"

"It was the one Nick bought six months ago, when he thought he was going to propose to Caroline," Winston offered.

"SHUT UP, WINSTON!" Schmidt said under his breath.

"Wow, you two really are awful human beings, aren't you?" Cece said shaking her head, as she sat down at the table next to them.

"Wait . . . you mean . . . you aren't going to go in there, and stop your friend from making a total ass of herself?" Schmidt asked incredulously.

"No, I'm not," Cece said calmly.

"Can I ask why?"

"Because, Schmidt . . . you and I both know that those two belong together. And if it takes a drunken blackout night, and a fake wedding, to get them over the hump _towards humping_, then I'm certainly not going to get in the way of that happening."

"Cece, I had no idea you were such a romantic!" Schmidt said, fake yawning, so that he could put his arm around his roommate's best friend.

"Tell anybody, and I'll rip your balls off," said Cece, perfectly straight-faced.

Schmidt quickly lowered his hand back into his lap.

Jess found Nick, seated on his bed, his feet out straight in front of him. He didn't seem at all surprised to see her. "We need to talk," said Jess nervously, leaning her back against the door.

Nick nodded solemnly. "Yeah . . . we do."


	5. Chapter 5

Whenever Jess was about to make a long, complicated speech, she did this adorable little thing, where she clasped her hands together in front of her, and bounced up and down on her heels. Nick was about to make a comment about it, but thought better of it, when he saw the solemn and determined expression on her face.

"Nick . . . I think you are a great guy. And I know that you are going to be a really spectacular husband, someday."

_Now, THAT, I was not expecting. _Nick thought . . . his face a mixture of amusement and confusion. "Um, thank you? I think?" He offered.

_Oh, my god! He's making the Turtle Face again! It's so cute! Focus , Jess! Focus! _"Yeah, so . . . you know, last night was . . . totally great, and . . . you are, by far, the best husband, I've ever had . . . I just feel like, maybe it would be better if we . . ."

"Jess," Nick began, "why are you calling me your husband?"

Jess was so involved in her speech, she barely registered the question, "I think we should get an annulment," she sputtered.

"WHAT?"

Jess suddenly looked like she was about to cry. "Oh! Nick, I'm sorry. I like you a lot, really I do. I just don't think we should have gotten married."

Nick sat up so fast that he nearly fell off his bed. "Why would think we got married last night?"

Jess bit her lower lip. "You mean . . . we didn't?"

"NO! How could we have . . . NO!" Nick exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously.

"Oh . . ." Jess said, with as casual a voice, as she could muster. "I knew that! I just wanted to make sure that YOU knew that. But I guess you do. Can't fool you, Nick Miller! I guess I'll just be going now," Jess sang, turning quickly toward the door.

She almost made it out too . . .

"STOP . . . REWIND . . . We're not done here, Jess."

Jess turned reluctantly, her mouth set in a pout. She'd been busted, _big time_.

"Now, where were we?" Nick said, with a smirk. "Oh yes, you were about to tell me where you got this ridiculous idea that we got married, last night."

"Well, Schmidt and Winston said . . ."

"Wait a minute," Nick interrupted. "You're telling me that our roommates told you that we got married, and you just . . . believed them?"

"Well, I didn't at first but . . . but then I saw that wedding picture."

"_He made us a wedding picture_," Nick ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. "SCHMIIIIIIDDDDTTT!" He yelled, rising from the bed, with clenched fists.

"Nick, don't . . . no . . . Nick," Jess spread out her arms to block the door, as effectively as possible.

The last thing she wanted was to start another wrestling match between her roommates. They never ended well. "I don't remember anything about last night, OK?" She finally blurted out.

Nick stopped, and sat back down on his bed. "I know."

"It's just that I . . . wait . . . _you know_?" Jess inquired, lowering her arms from their spread eagle position.

"Yeah, it was kind of obvious this morning, when you tried to sneak out of my bedroom by doing that ridiculous Ghost of Christmas Past thing."

"Hey, Charles Dickens is awesome, OK? I'll have you know that I played Miss Havisham in my fifth great production of _Great Expectations_," Jess insisted, before morphing into her best old lady voice, "Piiiiippp, isn't my Estella beuooootiffulll?"

Nick began to laugh, in spite of himself. Jess always had this really unnerving way of making him forget whatever he was angry about . . . which was a shame, because he _really_ liked being angry. It suited him.

"OK, first of all, never do that impression again . . . EVER. Second of all, don't try to change the subject on me. Why did you pretend to remember what happened, last night, if you didn't actually remember it?"

Jess crossed her arms, stubbornly, "Why did _you_ let me think you thought I remembered what I forgot, when you knew that I forgot what I pretended to remember?" Jess countered.

"That didn't make any sense!" argued Nick.

"Well, _YOU _don't make any sense," Jess yelled back.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be?"

"That's how it's going to be, Nick!" Jess replied. _What was it about Nick that made her so flustered, and temper tantrum-y? _She wondered.

Nick raised his hands in a placatory gesture. He really didn't want to fight with Jess. Besides, the more heated their argument got, the more tempted he was to grab her by the face and kiss her . . . an impulsive gesture he suspected would be highly inappropriate under the circumstances.

"You're right. I shouldn't have left you hanging like that. I guess I just thought that you'd come to me eventually. I mean, why didn't you just ask me? Am I really that scary?"

"No! No, you're not scary, Nick," Jess insisted, dashing over to the bed to place her hand on his shoulder, as if on instinct.

The sensation of the slight bodily contact caught them both off guard. Jess felt the heat rise from her toes, all the way to her cheeks. For a few seconds they both stared wide-eyed at one another, before Jess blushingly moved her hand away.

Jess took a deep breath, before continuing. "I guess I just didn't want to hurt your feelings. And then when I went to see Remy, I . . ."

"You went to see, Remy? ALONE? AGAIN? After last . . . Do you have a _death wish_?" Nick interrupted, staring up at Jess with an expression filled with abject horror.

"Cece came with me. And I told you, Nick. He's really not a bad guy. He just . . ."

"He's CRAZY . . . Jess. If last night taught you anything, it should have been that. I can't believe you felt more comfortable talking to that closet serial killer than you did talking to me."

"I'm sorry," Jess whispered, her eyes studying the floor intently as she spoke.

"It's OK," Nick said, smiling sadly.

An awkward silence fell over the pair. "Well, I should be . . ." Jess began.

"I'll tell you what happened last night . . . if you still want to know," Nick said simultaneously.

"Really?" Jess said excitedly. "Because, I definitely do."

"Are you sure? Because once that information is known, it can't be _unknown," _Nick warned her. "It's kind of like that movie, _The Ring. _You know, after they watch the tape, they can't un-watch it?"

"You're telling me that, if you tell me what happened last night, a creepy girl with long straggly hair is going to come out of my television set and kill me?" Jess wondered.

"Pretty much, yeah . . ." Nick replied.

"I'm totally in," Jess replied.

"OK then," said Nick with a smile, scooting over in his bed, and patting the spot next to him. "Have a seat. I'll tell you your bedtime story."

Jess slid into the spot next to Nick, sinking blissfully into the softness of his comforter. She then turned to face him, propping her head up on her elbow, so that she could see and hear him better. _Another night in bed with Nick Miller_. She couldn't help but think to herself, as Nick began to fill in the missing pieces of her lost night . . .


	6. Chapter 6

-Approximately 24-hours earlier-

"_Somehow, I imagined this going a little differently in my head," Nick said, more to himself than to anyone else, as he carefully helped Jess out of her now-soiled dress._

"_You imagined undressing me in your head?" Jess drunkenly mused, her eyes glassy with inebriation._

_Even half-unconscious, Jess still had the ability to catch him off guard. "Yes . . . I mean . . . no . . . I mean . . . let's just get you ready for bed, Jess," Nick responded, deftly evading his roommate's question, as the piece of fabric once draped over her body fell to the floor._

_He was trying to be gentlemanly . . . really, he was! But the sight of Jess standing before him in her bra and panties captivated him in ways he hadn't quite expected. He'd seen her naked before, of course. But the circumstances surrounding that bout of nakedness had been quite different. For one thing, he was with another woman at the time. For another, well, whether or not he was ready to admit it to himself yet, his feelings for her had changed since then._

_Nick felt an all-too-familiar stirring beneath his belt. This prompted him to launch into the mantra, which had been designed specifically for times like these, when his lower half was behaving in ways his top half didn't approve. "Dead puppies . . . Grandma Miller in a bathrobe . . . Roseanne Barr, Schmidt in a blonde wig and high heels . . .," he recited to himself from memory._

_It never failed. Within moments, he was ready to tackle the next step in Operation Get Drunk Jess to Bed, Without Taking Advantage of her Situation. "OK, raise your arms over your head," Nick insisted, as he held up an old sweatshirt from his law school days for her to slip into._

_Jess stood stock still._

"_I said . . . raise your arms," Nick instructed, louder this time._

_Jess shook her head vigorously._

"_Jess . . ." groaned Nick, exasperated._

"_You didn't say Simon Says," slurred Jess, a dopey grin forming at the corners of her mouth._

_Nick couldn't help but laugh. The whole situation was just THAT ridiculous. "Fine . . . Simon Says, lift your arms above your head," Nick relented._

"_Say please," Jess prompted, in her best school teacher voice._

_Nick rolled his eyes, and tossed the shirt onto Jess' head, causing her to stumble and fall forward, right into Nick's chest. Smirking, he pulled the neck hole over her head, causing her long hair to stick up at all sorts of ridiculous angles, thanks to the wonders of static cling. They locked eyes with one another again, as they had been doing all night, and gradually the laughter evaporated into a silence that was oddly sensuous and carnal._

_Nick raised his hand and ran it through Jess' hair . . . right before giving her the noogie to end all noogies._

"_Owwww, oww, enough! Mercy! I said MERCY!" Jess giggled, spinning away from Nick, as she finally worked her arms through the sweatshirt, which smelled distinctly of his cologne._

_Then suddenly, she lurched, raising her hand o her mouth, a look of abject horror on her face. "Ummm . . . Nick?"_

"_Yeah, Jess."_

"_I'm feeling a little twirly . . . and not the good kind of twirly, either."_

"_OK . . . hold on . . . just hold it in," Nick instructed, frantically racing his roommate toward the bathroom._

_They made it just in time. But the ordeal reminded Nick just how much he needed to get out of his own soiled clothes. (And burn them, if possible.) "SCHMIDT!" Nick yelled, poking his head out of the bathroom door._

"_Hey Nick," replied Schmidt jovially, as he approached his roommate's disembodied head._

"_What hell happened to your face?" Nick inquired._

_Schmidt self-consciously raised his hand to his mouth, "I don't want to talk about it," he muttered._

"_Is Winston around?" Nick asked._

"_Yeah, he's in his room, Skyping with one of his buddies from Latvia. Anything I can help you with?"_

"_Umm . . ." Nick fumbled, not quite sure he could trust Schmidt with this._

_ "Niiiiiick," Schmidt sing-songed, "Don't be shy! Tell your good pal Schmidty what you need!"_

_"Fine," Nick relented. "Ahhh . . . Jess . . . isn't feeling well. And I have to run downstairs for like two minutes to take out some VERY toxic trash. So, if you could just keep an eye on her, while I'm gone . . ."_

_ "What do you mean, 'keep an eye on her?'" Schmidt questioned, not liking where this was going at all._

_ As if on cue, Jess' slurry voice rang out from the bathroom. "Nick? I think the toilet bowl is talking to me."_

_ "I don't think that's possible, Jess," Nick called back calmly, before returning his attention back to Schmidt. "Just . . . I don't know . . . make sure she doesn't pass out, drown in the toilet, or run onto the roof naked and start doing the Funky Chicken Dance. Please? I'll be right back. I promise!"_

_ Schmidt considered this for a moment. "So, when you say, 'not feeling well,' you mean she's puking her guts out, right?"_

_ Nick sighed. "Yeah, Schmidt. That's exactly what I mean."_

_ "Ummm . . . I'm afraid that's going to be a problem for me," replied Schmidt, as he nervously pulled at the collar of his button-down shirt. "You see, I have a real sensitive gag reflex. I've had it since I was a child. And, as a result of this serious medical condition . . . well . . . my body just doesn't tolerate vomit real well."_

_ "You're kidding me, right?" Nick asked incredulously. "Tell me something, Schmidt. Do you think JESS tolerated vomit real well, after a certain someone's 29thbirthday, during which she held that certain someone's hair back, while he puked up all his birthday cake, despite the fact that an hour prior, that certain someone tried to RAPE HER FACE WITH HIS TONGUE?"_

_ Schmidt blushed. "Hmmm . . . you know what? I'll make an exception for Jess," he said, grinning benevolently._

_ Nick rolled his eyes. "I thought you would. Listen, I'll be right back. Just try not to do anything stupid, while I'm gone," he called over his shoulder, before dashing back to his room to get out of his own fetid clothes, and add them to the small trash bag currently carrying Jess's dress. (Under the circumstances, he assumed she wouldn't be too torn up over the loss.)_

_ Exactly two minutes and thirty seconds later, Nick was already on his way back from his journey to the garbage disposal. He could hear the loud mechanical whirring noise coming from his apartment, all the way down the hall. Unfortunately, he knew exactly what it was. "I'm going to KILL HIM," Nick growled, racing into the apartment toward the bathroom._

_ The sight that greeted him upon his return would probably have been funny, under any other circumstances, but now it just made him furious. There was Schmidt, a hospital mask covering his face, running an extra large commercial floor wax machine over the bathroom floor . . . while Jess was LYING NEXT TO THE TOILET, just inches away."_

_ "Nick . . . why is there a monster truck rally going on in our apartment?" Jess mumbled exhaustedly, her head still lodged inside the toilet._

_ Nick said nothing. He simply yanked the plug for the waxing machine out of the wall and stomped out of the bathroom. Five seconds later, he returned with The Douchebag Jar. Schmidt groaned. "I was disinfecting!" He insisted, not bothering to remove the mask from his face, before he spoke. "She'll thank me for it, tomorrow."_

_ Nick just shook his head and pointed angrily at the jar. Schmidt sighed, as he pulled a newly minted 5 dollar bill from his money clip, and tossed it into the already nearly-full money receptacle. _

"_Five dollars? Really?" Nick inquired pointedly._

_ Schmidt ended up adding another ten dollars to the jar, before Nick finally agreed to take it away. "NOW GET OUT! AND TAKE THAT RIDICULOUS MACHINE WITH YOU!" Nick yelled._

_ Schmidt gratefully complied . . . happy to have escaped the bathroom with a little dignity and enough money to buy lunch for tomorrow. Moments later, Nick slipped on the newly-over-waxed floor, and fell flat on his ass. That was just the kind of evening he was having . . ._

_ "Nick?" Jess rasped tearfully, finally managing to lift her head from the bowl. "I'm sorry I ruined your night."_

_ Seeing Jess look so utterly miserable softened Nick's usually hard heart. And in seconds, all his anger at Schmidt, and the literal pain in his ass, just melted away. "Are you kidding?" Nick said with a smile. "This was the best threesome I ever had!"_

_ That got a laugh out of Jess. It also inspired, in Nick's opinion, anyway, a rather random request. "Nick?" She began again._

_ "Yeah Jess?"_

_ "I think I'm feeling OK enough to take a shower."_

_ "Are you sure?" Nick faltered, his brow furrowed with concern. "Because I don't think . . ."_

_ "Yeah, I'll be fine. If you want, you can even sit on the edge of the tub to make sure I don't go down the drain."_

_ Nick snorted. "Well, since you put it that way . . ."_

_ Looking back on the night, Nick would admit that Jess seemed more than a bit unsteady on her feet. But she did manage to walk from the toilet to the shower all by herself, which, at the time, he interpreted as progress. Nick settled calmly onto the edge of the tub, as Jess daintily closed the curtain. Moments, later, she neatly laid her bra and panties, on the edge of the tub opposite where Nick was sitting._

_ When Jess turned on the water in the shower, Nick let out a tiny sight of relief. And then he heard the crash . . ._

_ Nick wasn't sure whether Jess had hit her head against the wall, or just lost her balance. All he knew was a small bottle of shampoo was now on the floor of the shower, and Jess' body was about to follow after it._

_ With a speed and agility he wasn't aware he possessed, Nick dove over the shower ledge and managed to catch Jess, before she fell to the ground. What he didn't plan on, however, was that she would pull him in with her._

_ "Man overboard," mumbled Jess._

_ Nick's second outfit of the day was now entirely soaked with water. He shook his head. "Eh, what the heck? I needed a shower, anyway. Do me a favor and face the wall, OK? I'm coming in."_

_ "You're already in."_

_ "You know what I mean," Nick muttered shyly._

_ "Nick, I've already seen you naked," Jess said matter-of-factly._

_ "Yeah . . . and you laughed . . . hard. So, turn around, please."_

_ Jess did as she was told, while Nick stripped out of his wet clothes, before stepping back into the shower. "Can I turn around yet?" Jess asked._

_ "No . . just . . . I don't know . . . count sheep or something. I'm a dude. We shower fast. I'll be done in a minute, tops."_

_ "Guys, if you are taking a shower, please don't use my mango chut-en-ey body wash," Schmidt called out, from outside the door._

_ Nick narrowed his eyes in the direction of the disembodied voice. It always pissed Nick off to no end that his roommate constantly insisted on adding an extra syllable to the word "chutney." Out of spite, he grabbed Schmidt's body wash, and began to apply it liberally all over himself, while trying desperately not to ogle Jess' backside. It wasn't easy. And by the time he was finished washing, he felt mentally and emotionally exhausted. _

_ "OK, I'm getting out. Think you could handle finishing up your shower without killing yourself, now . . . Jess?"_

_ The poor girl was sound asleep, with her head resting against the shower wall. Nick sighed, as he poured the remainder of the mango CHUTNEY body wash over Jess' shoulders, and watched it cascade down her body. He then angled the shower head toward her, so it could rinse her off. The job wasn't probably up to Jess' standards of cleanliness, but it was better than nothing._

_ Nick was about to turn off the shower, when he noticed that Jess' hair was still sporting telltale signs of her earlier . . . illness. He cursed under his breath. "I'm in porno hell!" He exclaimed._

_ "Dead puppies . . . Grandma Miller in a Bathrobe . . . Roseanne Barr," he began chanting, as he poured strawberry scented shampoo into his hand, and began to work it into the sleeping Jess' hair. Having helped his ex girlfriend become a bottle blonde on multiple occasions, Nick had more experience washing women's hair than he cared to admit. What he wasn't counting on was Jess' response to the sensation of his thinly muscled fingers expertly massaging her scalp, neck, forehead, and, particularly, behind her ears._

"_Oh Nick," Jess purred amorously, her eyes fluttering in ecstasy, as his fingers ran through her ebony hair. "Soooo good."_

_Instinctively, Jess allowed her head to fall backward onto Nick's shoulder, as she pressed her back against his chest. Nick froze, closing his eyes, as he felt his entire body tense up in response to the close contact. His mouth instantly went dry, and he felt the heat rising in his cheeks. "Dead Puppies, Grandma Miller, Roseanne . . ." he began again . . ._

_But it was no use. The damage had already been done. The best he could hope for was that Jess would be too drunk or blissed out to notice what had happened._

"_Nick? Is that Mango Chutney, or are you just happy to see me?" Jess asked in an inebriated version of her old-timey newspaperman voice._

_Nick shook his head, as he turned off the shower. So much for discretion!_

"_AND DON'T USE MY TOWEL!" Schmidt called out, the second the water shut off._

"_Which one is yours?" Nick asked innocently._

"_The one that now says 'SCHMIDT'S TOWEL' in big black letters."_

_Nick smirked, as he gleefully wrapped Schmidt's towel around his waist. He then led a more-or- less dry Jess back to her bedroom, where she promptly collapsed on her bed, face first, and began to snore lightly. He grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and covered her body with it. _

_Relieved that he had somehow managed to make it through the entire night, without killing Jess, or taking advantage of her situation, Nick patted himself on the back, literally, as he headed for the door. Then, Winston appeared in the doorway. "Hey, is that Jess?" He whispered._

"_No, it's just some random chick I brought home and put in her bed. Of course, it's Jess," Nick grumbled in response._

"_Well, um . . . you might want to make sure she sleeps on her side tonight," Winston replied nervously._

"_Why?"  
>"Because if she sleeps on her stomach or her back, she might choke on her own vomit and die."<em>

"_You're kidding."_

"_No, I'm not," Winston insists. "You're a bartender. Shouldn't you know this stuff?"_

_That really pissed Nick off. "Winston, I work in a BAR, not a Bed and Breakfast for people who like to choke on their own VOMIT."_

_Winston raised his hands in a placatory gesture. "Hey, just trying to be helpful!" He argued, before escaping to his bedroom._

_Nick crawled onto the bed, and tried to coax Jess onto her side . . . first gently, then, not-so-gently . . . He tried using pillows. He even tried using books. But finally, he was too exhausted to try anything else. "Screw it," he said, as he crawled into bed next to Jess, pulling her body close to his, so she couldn't flop back on her tummy, in the middle of the night._

_Jess wriggled in closer to him, wrapping her arm around his. She was smiling. So was he. He definitely didn't hate it. In fact, it felt kind of perfect . . ._

"So, we never . . .?" Jess inquired, tilting her head upward toward Nick.

"Nope!" Nick replied, with a smile that Jess thought looked ever-so-slightly sad.

"And that was the whole story?"

"That was the WHOLE story," Nick replied, as he gently brushed a lock of hair from her face.

_And it was . . . almost . . . _

_What Nick didn't tell Jess was that at some point during the night, she had leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I think I'm falling in love with you, Nick Miller."_

_It was a feeling with which he could definitely relate . . ._

Nick thought he caught Jess looking slightly disappointed, but she hid it quickly. "Thank you for taking such good care of me," she said, cupping his face, with her hand.

"You're welcome," he said, not able to pull his eyes from hers.

"So, your breaking up with Julia . . . I guess that wasn't my fault, after all," Jess mused.

Nick grinned shyly, and Jess noticed that he was blushing ever so slightly. "Actually, that kind of _was _your fault . . . well, I guess more my fault, but you were definitely a part of it."

"How so?" Jess inquired, as she absent-mindedly ran her fingers through Nick's hair.

"Well, when I was with Caroline, I learned what it was like to be the one in the relationship who cared more, and was loved less. When she dumped me, I vowed I would never do that to another human being. And lately, when I've been Julia, I've found that there's always something else I'd rather be doing."

"What would you rather be doing?" Jess whispered.

"This," said Nick, as he grabbed Jess impulsively, and met his lips with hers.

She responded instantly, pulling his body ever closer to her, as their mouths and hands explored one another, greedily, eagerly, and hungrily. By the time they separated from one another, they were both a little breathless, and more than a bit lightheaded. Jess even found herself feeling a little drunk, again. "Wow . . . just . . . wow," she exclaimed.

"I know," Nick replied.

"So, does this mean . . . are we _really_ going to do this?" Jess asked nervously.

"I think we already are," Nick said huskily, as he twined his fingers with hers.

"OH YEAH, Jess is dating the Nick . . . Jess is dating Nick," Jess sang, as she did a little impromptu dance around the bedroom.

Nick laughed, and threw a pillow at Jess, which hit her square in the face.

"Hey!" She exclaimed, tossing it back at him.

Nick ducked, so the pillow hit the wall behind him. "So,_ girlfriend_, want to help me get back at Schmidt and Winston for what they did to you with that phony wedding photo?"

Jess climbed back into the bed, straddling Nick. "In a bit . . . there's something I want to do first."

Nick smiled, placing both his hands on Jess' shoulders, "Oh yeah," he said cheekily. "What's that?"

"I wanna have a twosome with you," Jess said, using that old-timey newspaper man voice again.

"A twosome . . . well . . . I think that can be arranged," replied Nick, as he pulled Jess closer to him again.

Sitting at the kitchen table, Cece, Winston, and Schmidt could no longer ignore the loud sex sounds coming from Nick's room. "Well, this is exciting," Cece said sarcastically.

"How come they get to have all the fun?" Schmidt asked, with a pout. "What the heck are we supposed to do now?"

"I think I'm going to bounce, now that I've done my job as matchmaker for the day," Cece remarked, rising from her seat.

"Wait . . . don 't leave yet," Winston exclaimed. "I know something we can do."

Cece paused, and turned in Winston's direction, only mildly curious.

"Someone left this case of wine on our doorstep this morning," Winston said excitedly, carrying the case from his room to the kitchen table.

"Any idea where it's from?" Cece asked.

"Who cares? It's free booze," Winston replied.

Cece eyed the multitude of shady, unmarked bottles, hesitating.

"Come on, Cece. Live a little bit. Dip your toe in the pool of possibility," Schmidt said, leaning back in his chair, with his hands behind his head.

"Awww, what the hell. I'll pour," said Cece.

**The END.**


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